


Fire

by Resoan



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, Smut, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-AU. Korra's been abducted by the Equalists and taken to Amon. Instead of taking her bending or torturing her as she expects, Amon engages her in conversation, one in which she realizes that he doesn't truly believe in the Equalist cause – that all he's suffering has been at the hands of the avatar, and the Equalist cause is only a stepping stone to achieving his goal. He tells her of his life, all he's endured, and she feels moved by sympathy. He intends to make her feel just as he's felt for so long.</p><p>Written for Amorra Week, based on the prompt Passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sticking a big, effing disclaimer on this bad boy. It has a very detailed smut-scene (which takes up the majority of the one-shot, I think), and I’m very self-conscious about posting it. I’ve never written smut for fanfiction (RPs are another story :P), so this is a first for me. Please be kind. I wasn’t going for realism, and I have zero real-life experience from which to draw, so yeah. Regardless, I really like this one even with all the smut. I could potentially see this becoming a chapter-fic, but I won’t say more in case I give too many things away :x
> 
> Also, I feel as though I should explain that I took the meaning of Passion from its original usage in Latin (that is, ‘endured’ or ‘suffered’). That I ended up writing smut is irrelevant. xDD

“Leave. The avatar is mine.” Amon wasted little time in commanding his chi-blockers, their steps notably hesitant but never stopping as they shut the door behind them. The foolish girl had been wandering the streets of Republic City, apparently never once giving consideration to the fact that the Equalists were out for blood, and she was such an easy target while all alone and off-guard. Amon at first wanted to take her into the prison block with the other 'benders', though he supposed with the smallest curl of lips that the term was obsolete now; her tenacity and constant struggles, however, made that idea impractical. He certainly couldn't risk a security break: not now, and especially not when the avatar's demise was in-hand.

“Your struggling is in vain, avatar,” Amon finally spoke directly to her, his tone menacing and disparaging. The rope was tight around her torso, her arms pressing into her sides; the sound of Amon's voice lifted Korra's glaring eyes in his direction, the avatar not only not ceasing her struggles but trying even harder. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise that she acted in a defiant manner; she had always had more temerity than sense as Amon recalled. “Tell me, avatar: do you know why are you here?” Amon's voice was dark, unnerving, and it practically dared Korra to give him a sarcastic reply: to give him a reason, _any reason_ , to take away her bending or employ more physical punishments.

It was clear by the twitch in Korra's jaw and the light in her eyes that she was having difficulty keeping the remark from her lips; Amon's eyes assessed her narrowly until her gaze dropped to the floor, a tacit sign of defeat though Amon knew better than to believe she was now a docile prisoner. “Ah, it appears you can be trained.” Korra growled at the statement, her arms pushing at the bindings though the rope did not give.

“What do you want from me?!” Korra finally shouted, her voice harsh and hoarse from her earlier screams; their eyes met moments later, a clash of icy blue, and Amon allowed a few moments to pass before he answered her query.

“To know, to understand.” Amon's fingers pressed into Korra's cheeks as he held her face aloft, his eyes turning from hers after a moment as he released her. Korra's anger abated for a split second at his unexpected reply, her eyes wide and blinking at him as he turned from her. “I care little for this so-called Equality my compatriots are so hell-bent on bringing to Republic City, Avatar,” Amon admitted in what sounded like a sigh, his hand lifting to his mask though hesitating a few inches away. Korra watched in silence, the avatar holding her breath as she thought Amon might reveal his face to her. Just as she thought he might, his hand returned to his side.

“Then why are you their leader?” Korra finally recovered herself enough to ask, her head slightly tilted in his direction.

“The Equalists were already a sizable group when I came upon them here in Republic City; they saw one of the Triads' members attempt to mug me, and before I defended myself they appeared,” Amon stated, though it was clear he was reliving the memory from his tone of voice. “They did not know I was a bender, nor did I volunteer the information,” his voice dropped at the admission, Korra's jaw now agape. Amon was a bender?! How had he kept that from the Equalists for so long?

“Then why did you join them? They'll kill you as easily as any other bender out there!” Korra protested, Amon suddenly upon her moments after her outburst.

“Silence, Avatar,” Amon instructed in a deadly-low voice, Korra resentful though acquiescing if only to have Amon continue with his tale and release her increasingly-aching cheeks. His grip loosened, but he did not move away just yet; “They offered me a place among them: one to which I quickly adapted, and I'll assume even you are capable of discerning what happened once I joined them.” Amon finally stepped away, Korra watching him curiously as he did so; he still hadn't revealed his true intentions for leading this radical group, and that was what interested her most. She would ignore the jab towards her intellect until later when he wasn't so tense and in such an advantageous position against her.

“You've not heard my true past; where I came from before Republic City, and therein lies my reasoning for joining the Equalists. Even then, when they first discovered me, I knew their platform would be the stepping stone to achieving what I most desired as a boy, and finally as a man: revenge.” Amon paused there, his voice turning angry though Korra suspected it wasn't exactly aimed at her. It took her another moment to understand he'd uttered the magic word: revenge. Had he really been living all these years as a silent martyr just for the opportunity to gain vengeance for some undoubtedly-misguided reason?

“You sure waited a long time for revenge,” Korra muttered under her breath, Amon's sharp look effectively knocking the wind from Korra's lungs.

“I...at first, I was unsure of what I wanted; I had freedom, to be certain, but I was unsure of what to do once I had acquired it,” Amon seemed to speak more to himself than to Korra, his voice turning wispy and pensive. “After infiltrating the Equalist organization, I came to understand better my motives. You see, young avatar, my father had been a notorious criminal, once whose bending was stripped from him by the previous avatar, your predecessor,” Amon's tone turned trenchant, his eyes narrowed behind his mask as he caught Korra's gaze.

Korra suddenly felt spineless, completely at the mercy of a crazed murderer and fear threatened to overwhelm her simply from the predatory look in the man's eyes; she couldn't even see his face: his eyes alone were enough to effectively strike terror in her very core. The fleeting look on Korra's face caught Amon's attention, and in the time it Korra to blink he was perhaps an inch from her, her shriek absorbed by the warmth of his hand. His lips twisted into an ugly smile behind his mask, though it dissipated as quickly as it appeared; he tore his hand away from her skin as though it pained him, Korra's mind too jumbled to make much sense of what had just happened.

“As a child, he wasted no time training me when he first discovered my talents; he also wasted little of his breath save to recount the tale of how the avatar stole his bending from him.” Amon watched Korra out of the corner of his eyes, his hand still burning, though it was a sensation with which he was intimately familiar; it could be ignored for the time being.

Her expression was not what Amon expected, however; she looked conflicted despite covering it well with her facial features. No doubt she would feel the need to bother him with incessant question once he finished, not that Amon would answer them, of course.

“When I fled my childhood home, it was to get away from him; I had had enough of his constant training, his stories, his reflections and memories of the past, but most of all, his complaining-”

“What about your mother?” Korra blurted out curiously, Amon abruptly stopping and turning to her with an even expression, his hands beginning to tremble.

It appeared as though Amon would answer her question, but when next he spoke, it was not about her; “It seems his indoctrination worked, however. As much as I may have desired to disentangle myself from him and his delusions of power and the avatar, I was unable to do so,” Amon looked over at Korra, the avatar gulping back her anxiety.

“It was not until you came here, avatar, that I found new purpose in fulfilling the work of the Equalists,” Amon then stated flatly, his eyes looking away from Korra purposefully. “All of my father's ingrained prejudices came flooding back to mind, and I have thus far been unsuccessful in purging them from my thoughts,” Amon's hands clasped tightly in front of him, his silence indicating to Korra that he was finished with his story.

“What did I have to do with anything?” Korra began slowly, tentatively; “I'm not Aang, I didn't take your father's bending away! Why do you hate me if that's the only reason?” Korra's couldn't keep the inquisitive quality from her tone, and Amon turned to view her slowly once she finished, Korra suddenly uncertain whether she should have said anything at all.

“My father's hatred and resentfulness gave me a starting point, avatar, but you created the remaining course.” Amon appeared as poised and calm as Korra had ever seen him, but he inwardly seethed, both from anger and something equally as potent.

“What did I do?! I haven't-”

His hand covered her mouth again, their eyes locked; “You did not have to do anything but come, avatar,” Amon murmured, Korra squirming against his hold and trying to scurry backwards in an attempt to dislodge him. “You see, young avatar, there is a burning, a deep scorching of my soul that I can no longer ignore, and you are the cause of it.” Amon shoved her away, her back thudding against the metal wall before she fell to the ground and to her knees, a few loose hairs falling over her shoulders as she looked up at him, horrified.

“All I have endured, all I have suffered and lived through, and I am undone by a teenager who wields more power than any one person ought to,” Amon stated in a disgust, his hand clenching into a fist. “What curse have you placed on me, avatar? Not only will you rule my childhood, but you absolutely _insist_ on haunting my adult life as well?” Korra remained silent as Amon asked his rhetorical questions, the masked man finally staggering forward until he stood above her, looking down.

“You cannot possibly know how this taunts me; how many times I've simply wanted to _end_ , but your challenges push me forward, lest my foolish followers learn of my true origins,” Amon choked out a chuckle at that, his arms crossing over his chest. “And when they push me, this _heat_ burrows deeper into my chest, refusing to leave, though it tries to claw its way out at every inconvenient opportunity,” Amon's voice began to break, anger, despair, and desperation cleaving together in an unattractive mix that froze Korra to the spot.

Dropping to his knees, Amon's hands found their old indentations on Korra's cheeks before grabbing hold of her, the avatar not struggling much to his surprise. “I wake, so scalding water does nothing and it is a wonder I have not died from the madness,” he paused briefly, Korra's eyes watery though not looking away from his. “Waking is a small matter compared to slumber; in the attempt, I toss and turn, so ablaze I fear I may spontaneously combust or set everything in the near vicinity on fire,” his voice was hoarse now, Korra trembling as he continued. “One would think slumber offers peace, but that is not true; the spirits plague my sleep with images of you, and those only serve to stoke the embers until the flames are out of control, and my mind ignites as readily as my body.” Amon finally ended his monologue, Korra's eyes downcast.

“Tell me, avatar: how else do I rid myself of this pervasive heat if not by ending you?” Amon's voice was suddenly beseeching, his teeth biting his lower lip harshly. “I tire of living like an animal, if one can call it a life-”

“I'll help you,” Korra offered quietly, Amon hardly aware that his hands had moved from her mouth to her shoulders.

Releasing a bitter laugh, Amon spoke, “There is nothing you can do, avatar. I am beyond helping, and neither am I someone you would want to help.” The genuine sincerity of Amon's tore Korra's heart to shreds, the avatar wanting to gather this seemingly strong, perfect man in her arms but unable to do so with the ropes binding her way.

“But I _do_ want to help!” Korra insisted stubbornly, her eyes hard as they bored into Amon's. “If you'd let me out of this stupid rope...,” Korra's voice trailed off from the look in Amon's eyes, the avatar quieting as Amon's hands slipped from her shoulders and in a single, fluid motion, the ropes fell to the ground soundlessly.

“I will return.” Amon was at the door in a split second, Korra launching herself at his back and latching her arms around his torso. Amon promptly froze at the touch, the warmth of her body on his back bringing back memories from his previous night's dreams. “Avatar.” His voice was strained, his hands trying to pry her arms off of him and ultimately failing.

“Look, I don't understand _everything_ about you or what happened to you, but I do feel kind of responsible,” Korra muttered, Amon able to pinpoint exactly where she was speaking against his back by the warmth of her breath.

“You are relentless,” Amon spoke under his breath, the masked man unsure whether Korra heard it or not. “Do not blame me for losing control, avatar,” Amon finally stated, his hands grasping Korra's wrists and wriggling out of her grasp. Korra stood stock-still as Amon rounded on her, their eyes finding each other's and pausing; a small, half-smile appeared on Korra's lips as she stepped closer to him, Amon somehow resisting the urge to flinch or back away as she drew nearer.

“I think you've been 'in control' long enough,” Korra whispered with a brazen smile, her hands lifting to his mask and pausing for a moment before tearing it away. She should have known from his story that the one he told the public to rally them for the Equalist cause was a lie; his face sported no scar, not even a slight indention or imperfection at all. His expression looked pained, probably from keeping himself under control, a control which was beginning to crack from what Korra gathered.

She finally dropped his mask onto the floor, a crack appearing in the porcelain shell over one of the eyes and through the middle of the nose; Amon didn't notice, however. Korra's fingers were touching his face, probably out of a sense of wonder considering it was the first time she was seeing it, but every ephemeral touch seared his flesh, Amon's teeth gritting and his jaw clenching.

The searing touch of her fingertips was nothing compared to what happened next; her fingers glided delicately over his high cheek bones, past his ears and into his hair, Korra using the leverage to pull him down to her height and pressing a kiss to his unassuming lips. She could feel him jolt at the sensation, though he didn't push her away; he didn't do much of _anything_ for the first few moments, Korra's eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she pulled away and glanced up at him inquisitively.

Just as her mouth opened to utter some trite apology or ask what was the matter, Amon swooped down in a hungry kiss, an arm rounding her torso and pressing her as tightly against him as possible. Despite being a relative novice, Korra met him mid-way, teeth biting at his lips and hands digging deeper into his scalp. He afforded her no time between kisses, Korra having to pull him away briefly in order to regain lost breath. She could feel the redness of her cheeks, her mind hazy and still somewhat disoriented.

Amon would grant her no time to orient herself, though; he switched their positions and pressed her to the back of the door, his lips pressing against hers with an urgency Korra had never before felt. He cradled the back of her neck as he coaxed his tongue between her lips, Korra tensing at the sudden intrusion though not pushing him away. In truth, she had long ago abandoned the thought that this was helping him; a combination of sympathy, hormones, unrequited feelings, and a sudden onset of attraction for this dangerous stranger was more than enough to push Korra over the proverbial edge: a place Amon had been standing ever since she'd arrived in Republic City.

His leg worked itself between her own, Korra jumping in his hold when the pressure and heat of his sex pressed against her thigh; her eyes rolled back into her skull and she groaned lowly into his mouth, his lips twisting into a smirk. It was only then that Korra realized what she was getting herself into, and it took all of half a second for her to determine that not only did she not _care_ , but why was he stopping and oh _god_ she was burning. She completely understood his fire metaphors from earlier now.

His deft fingers were already well on their way to yanking Korra's shirt over her head, Korra wasting no time after the cloth fell from his fingertips as she pulled him down for another fierce kiss; pushing her back against the door, Korra reached her hand to return the favor. Removing Amon's shirt was no small feat while constantly distracted by plump lips and the teasing rhythm of his hips against hers, but she managed it somehow; she wouldn't be apologizing if his shirt had rips or holes in it later, though.

The room assigned to Korra by Amon and the Equalists did indeed have a bed, but its size was not particularly conducive to more than a single person; that, however, did not stop Amon as he slid a hand down Korra's back and led her none-too-gently across the room and she fell to the bed. She kicked off her boots as he did the same, Amon climbing over Korra's hips and settling himself there; Korra's cheeks burned red, but she was not so self-conscious at the moment to give it much thought.

The pressure against her groin was relieving a little of the tension in her body, but not enough; she wriggled underneath him, his hands skimming over her belly and up to her still-bound breasts, his lips and tongue following and leaving a trail of saliva over her skin. Korra groaned aloud, her hips arching into his and stilling his movements momentarily; looking down, Korra found his eyes: crazed, dilated, and so full of conflicting emotions Korra got dizzy just looking at them.

The material binding Korra's breasts was still somehow in-tact, though that didn't last too much longer as Amon pushed a hand underneath the bindings and they quickly burst from the pressure. Korra's chest heaved for much-needed air as Amon stared down at her, his gaze quickly turning feral and his tongue moistening his lips. His hands preceded his mouth, though Korra moaned shamelessly all the same, her hands raking down his back as she tried to push him closer to that source of pleasure.

He stilled noticeably when Korra's wandering hands danced from his back, over his hips, and finally dipped into his pants; a low groan escaped his lips as Korra found what she was searching for; “Y-you're not the only one wh-who can tease,” Korra panted out, her fingers moving up and down the length of it slowly, agonizingly so.

“We'll see,” Amon spoke through grit teeth, Korra's hand finally lifting up to his chest and ghosting over the warm skin there. Adjusting himself to a more comfortable position, Amon's knees fell between Korra's legs, his fingers untying the small skirt over her pants before tossing it aside. Freezing, Amon let out a hiss when Korra tweaked a nipple, his narrowed eyes glaring down at her though she wasn't intimidated in the least; lifting herself upright, Korra pressed a kiss to the area, her hand again dipping below the hemline of his pants and grasping him in her hand though she released him quickly thereafter.

Her lips on his distracted him effectively, her free hand pushing his pants down as far as they would go until he regained enough control to pick them off along with the final piece of clothing that kept his modesty in-tact; Korra tried not to stare, her cheeks flushing even more as Amon's lips attacked her with renewed vigor. He attacked her lips, her throat, her neck, her breasts and the valley between them, and continued in a downward direction until he came across the top of her pants, Korra's belly trembling under his fingers as he untied the knot keeping it at her waist and and let the cord fall to the ground.

Had he been concerned with her consent of the act, he might have glanced up in her direction, but instinct had taken over a long while beforehand; she had offered herself freely, had not pushed him away, and that was all the consent Amon required to continue. Her pants slid over her hips effortlessly, though Korra was unable to tell how impatient Amon had been with the entire undressing-part; some mental part of him must have realized what was happening, and kept the animal from tearing everything away and satiating himself. She found herself smiling at the thought, though the smile disappeared and a look of a shock replaced it when fingers entered her, her lips opening in a silent gasp. It wasn't painful, not exactly; it felt strange, to be honest, but the moment he began to drive them in and out in an increasingly-rapid motion, her head fell back to the mattress: her eyes shut in a silent ecstasy.

Her reaction, apparently, was enough; his fingers were gone in a hurry, his fingers pressing into her hips instead as something larger and hotter invaded. A bead of a sweat fell down her forehead as her head fell back again, a groan of pain escaping her lips; she sincerely hoped the pain stopped soon...it would, right?

The steady rhythm of Amon's hips kept Korra from drowning in the pain alone, the pain eventually subsiding and converting into something less unpleasant; legs rounding her back, Korra reached an unsteady arm towards Amon until it hooked around his neck, their lips meeting in a sloppy kiss punctuated by twin moans a moment later.

The rhythm suddenly picked up, Korra's hips eagerly meeting Amon's until it reached a crescendo, and Korra cried out louder than she'd thought was possible, her cry drowning out Amon's cry as his head fell back and his body shuddered above hers.

* * *

Amon's eyes blinked open wearily, the man surprised to note that he no longer felt the searing sensation right under his skin yet always out of reach; just as he began to wonder what had calmed the flames, his eyes fell to the young avatar, her hair loose and surrounding her head on the small pillow afforded with the mattress. He should have been horrified, letting his guard down in front of his greatest enemy, but he couldn't muster anything other than a small smile, a little disdain for Korra's poor choice to bed him, and something warm deep in his gut. This warmth, however, was different than the one to which he was accustomed; it was akin to a bright sun, offering him just enough warmth to stave off the cold, but not so much as to overwhelm him. What exactly did that mean in lieu of what had happened with Korra? Would he no longer be subservient to the scorching sensation, or would he need to remain with the avatar to ensure it didn't return?

The latter struck fear into his heart, though Amon swallowed it before it could grow; eyes lingering on Korra's form, Amon attempted to feel the same loathing, hateful feeling he had held for her yesterday, but found that it was no longer there. Last night had been a catharsis of sorts, he supposed.

“Mm,” Korra turned towards him in her sleep, her arm hitting his torso accidentally; replacing the appendage next to her body, Amon leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head before standing from the bed and retrieving his clothes. Putting them back on was a more difficult task than he imagined, considering how sore his generally-unused muscles now were, but he managed somehow.

“What have you done with Amon, Avatar?!” The door to Avatar Korra's cell suddenly burst open with an irate Lieutenant and numerous chi-blockers appearing, all of them standing aghast as their eyes roved from the naked avatar to a disheveled Amon. “You traitor! I trusted you!” the Lieutenant shouted, the noise finally waking the slumbering avatar who quickly covered herself with her hands.

Frozen, Amon pondered for a split second on what he ought to do; there would be no talking his way out of this, he realized with a grimace. Then again, with the avatar's abilities, the fire within him had cooled, and the Equalists' cause was no longer his own. “Consider this my resignation, Lieutenant,” Amon finally spoke coldly, his arms lifting in a blood-bending stance before the Equalists dropped to the ground.

“You're a-” Korra began in a horrified tone, her eyes wide.

“There's no time, avatar. We leave now, unless you would like to stay a prisoner of these people,” Amon stated, Korra swallowing her nervousness before hastily throwing on necessary articles of clothing.

Fleeing the scene, neither noticed that Amon had accidentally stepped on his old mask, the porcelain subsequently shattering into thousands of tiny, minuscule pieces.

The Lieutenant was the first to awaken among the group, a hand reaching to his pounding head; “Wha-” the Lieutenant's voice died as he noticed the broken remains of Amon's notorious mask, his eyes softening before narrowing into a hateful glare. “We will rise, traitor, and you will be the first to feel our wrath.”


End file.
